


The Funny One

by Kearatheshadow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Advice, Character Study, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Insecurity, Situational Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kearatheshadow/pseuds/Kearatheshadow
Summary: The night they finish the Universe-wide Voltron Show, Hunk has a hard time coming to terms with everything bugged-Coran made them do to make them into stereotypes. Wanting to learn to stand up for himself, he goes to Shiro for advice, and learns a powerful lesson about war.





	The Funny One

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during Season Four, in-between episode four “the Voltron Show” and episode five “Begin the Blitz.” This is a short character study mostly written out of frustration/ongoing crisis with the show to give Hunk more character development. While everyone in Voltron had issues with the stereotypes bugged-Coran forced on them, Hunk being humiliated really set me off.

In Hunk’s not so humble opinion, they could not get off of planet Bi Boh fast enough. He just wasn’t _made_ for the stage, and he just wanted to go back to working with real refugee efforts, real missions where he could prove he was _worthy_ \--

He felt the itch under his skin as he stood on the control deck for the debrief, Bi Bo Bi paid and escorted back down to their planet. The knowledge that he wasn’t doing enough, that they had wasted a lot of time putting on flashy and expensive shows when they should’ve been supplying camps and being on the front lines made Hunk even more queasy than he’d already been since they started doing the newest string of shows.

Coran seemed to be done apologizing, and Hunk sidled up to him, trying not to draw attention to them as Allura put in their new coordinates. “So, uh. We’re not going to have to do any more of those shows right?”

Coran stood up straighter, mustache twitching. “Well of course we are! Not as often anymore, but we still need to make public appearances.”

“Uh, right. Right, but could maybe it be more _natural--”_

“Alright Team,” Shiro announced as he minimized the map of the Coalition. “Good news is that I’ve arranged a briefing with the Blade tomorrow morning.”

Pidge crossed their arms. “Well what do we have to brief them on?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow when I’ve finalized the details. Once we know the full extent of our broadcast we can then make use of our new allies. In the meantime, Allura, can you warp us back to Okari? Everyone else go get some rest, we’ll meet back here at 08:00.”

Coran bounded over to Allura as the ship hummed beneath their feet, and Hunk sighed, heading towards the door.

“Hey _Humorous Hunk_ , why don’t we go down and play a few rounds of Killbot Phantasm? I’ll even let you go first,” Lance came up behind him and nudged him playfully.

Hunk sidestepped, looking away when surprise flashed across Lance’s face. He kept walking, eyes fixed on the floor. “No thanks man, I’m pretty tired. Long day and all.”

Lance let out an exaggerated sigh, stretching his arms up above his head. “Yeah, I know what you mean. That’s the price to pay for showbiz, am I right?”

Hunk faltered, throat tight. He stuffed his hands in his pockets instead of responding, but Lance had already picked up on his mood, leaning forward as they walked to try and look at his face. “Hunk?”

“Showbiz, sure,” he agreed, “If you wanted to be humiliated in front of half the universe.”

It came out harsher than he intended-- more honest than he wanted to let on, but it made Lance lean back and stutter, and gave Hunk the chance to open the door to his room with one swift motion. Guilt started eating at him, the same hot flush that made his stomach flip, and he clenched his teeth around a cheerier “Well, Goodnight!” as he closed the door on his friend.

He slumped against the door, legs trembling and chest thick with barely-contained emotion. He hated being frustrated-- his mother had taught him that frustration without control was just a future mistake, and he had almost made one. The last thing he wanted to do was yell at Lance, he just... couldn’t be around him anymore. Lance _loved_ the acting, he _loved_ that role, the _Loverboy._

Hunk let out a sigh when he heard Lance’s footsteps finally retreat down the corridor. He could lie to himself all he wanted, about why he was upset, but really, he just didn’t want to be the _fucking_ joke again.

Hunk hated being the funny one. That wasn’t him making those jokes, it wasn’t his dumb puns, or teasing his friends, or trying to be clever-- the funny thing was _him._ They were laughing _at_ _him._

Struggling to find purchase on the wall he heaved himself up, temple resting on the metal until he was sure he wouldn’t start crying on the spot. He didn’t want this to happen all over again-- where he didn’t have enough confidence to stand up for himself like he should’ve. The itch to be respected flared under his skin, insecurities rising up from the ditch where he had buried them. He had to prove himself. He _always_ had to keep proving _to himself_ that he belonged here.

Yellow purred from her hanger, and Hunk felt it in his mind, like a sudden flare of light, telling him to stand taller. He was a paladin of Voltron.

He needed to stand up to Coran and everyone else next time they insisted on doing anymore shows-- but mostly he needed to talk it out. Lance... Lance wasn’t an option right now. Not with this.

Hunk got himself together and opened the door to walk back the way he came. The most confident one on the team had to be Shiro-- maybe he was still awake and willing to give him advice on how to stand his ground. With that thought, Yellow’s connected abruptly disappeared. Hunk stood in the hallway, a little disoriented, and for some reason, a little more scared and alone.

When he got to the door of the bridge, he tried to reach out to her again, and she crept back to his mind like a word he couldn’t quite place, uncertain of something, and it made him even more anxious to knock, but he did it anyway, the sound echoing.

What on earth could make _her_ cautious? What did he do?

“Come in,” Shiro called curtly, and Hunk did as he was told, finding Shiro still in the middle of the bridge, map of the Universe spread out in front of him, blocking the view of Okari’s three moons. Yellow faded further, like a whisper he couldn’t quite make out, but she stayed with him, understanding that he needed support.

Shiro glanced behind him as Hunk came in, a smile flickering on his face. “Hunk, what’s up? You should be getting some rest.”

Hunk stopped next to him, and decided not to comment about the bags underneath Shiro’s eyes. “Shiro, hey, I uh-” He should’ve rehearsed this better. “I was actually hoping for some advice.”

Shiro turned his body towards him, the smile flicking back on again. “Of course, what about?”

Hunk shifted his weight, rolling the words around on his tongue. He already felt bad and uneasy, and the urge to lace his words was strong, to make himself sound less pathetic than he felt. He bit his tongue instead. The only way Shiro could help was if Hunk was honest with him.

“I… haven’t really been cool with all the shows. I know Coran apologized, but if we do more I want to stick up for myself this time, maybe reinvent my character. I really don’t want to be the funny guy, you know?”

Shiro tilted his head slightly, taking in his words. “Hunk, I wish I could say that no one can tell you what to do, but you are a part of a team.”

Hunk’s felt like he had swallowed a rock. “I know that, I don’t want to leave Voltron or anything, it’s just the _shows_ \--”

“Also, it’s a little too late, we’re all one-dimensional at this point. I don’t like it either, but this setup has worked.” The frown on Shiro’s face made Hunk defensive.

“But does anyone _really_ take those shows seriously?” he snapped. Shiro stared at him, and Hunk shrunk further and further into himself. “Shiro…”

“Let me show you something.” Shiro had already turned back to the console, and pulled up the map of the Voltron Coalition.

“These are the planets that were supporting us two weeks ago,” he started, and Hunk watched, throat tight, as the planets on the left corner of the map started to turn green, one by one. “I was going to show everyone in the morning,” Shiro said firmly. “But the support we’ve gotten has doubled in that time, and I have a plan that will unify us and make us a stronger threat than we already are.”

Hunk knew if he looked away he would start crying, but he _felt_ Shiro glance at him. They looked at the map together. Hunk’s stomach turned. He was supposed to feel hope, this was _huge_ , the Coalition was bigger than ever, but he just felt bitter.

“Hunk,” Shiro said gently, trying to appease him. “I know you’ve felt humiliated this past week, whatever was influencing Coran took it too far, but...I am disappointed in you for not looking at the big picture. We can end this, we can defeat the Galra, but we have to be a team, and sometimes that means sacrificing parts of ourselves for the greater good.”

_Fuck._ Hunk squeezed his eyes shut. Shiro lost _everything_ up in space, he was _tortured_ , he lost his _arm,_ and here Hunk was complaining that his feelings had gotten hurt. Yellow grew stronger, protective, and it was only her presence-- the feeling of the floor beneath his feet-- that he was able to open his mouth.  “I understand,” was all he said, and when he opened his eyes he looked past the map at the night sky.

Shiro didn’t say anything back, and Hunk took it as his cue- or a excuse- to leave, walking off the bridge, Yellow supporting each step, grounding him.

It wasn’t enough. Hunk went back to his room and changed into his pajamas, hands shaking. Everything was too slow, the thoughts in his head too toxic, and he grabbed his pillow, blankets, and slippers and made the trek to Yellow’s hanger.

She welcomed him, audibly purring, and he curled up on the floor of the cockpit, metal warm to the touch. It was humming with energy, the presence in his mind like the memory of a hug, and he just sobbed, one hand pressed to the floor, to the lion trying to support him.

He was a Paladin of Voltron, but he felt like a joke.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Shiro was harsh, but as we all know, Shiro is Not Himself. Well meaning but harsh seem to be the style nowadays. 
> 
> I’m active on Twitter now under @Kearatheshadow


End file.
